


Fingers

by rainsoakedshoes



Series: 30 Days of Sterek [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Derek, Artist Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3128273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainsoakedshoes/pseuds/rainsoakedshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a large crack of thunder from outside, and Stiles didn’t think it was possible but it started to rain even harder. Stiles groaned; the prospect of going back outside was not a nice one. <br/>“You can hang around here,” Laura offered. “Wait until the rain lets up a little bit.”<br/>“You sure?” Stiles asked. <br/>Laura nodded. She picked up a sketchpad and held it out to Stiles. “Here, take this and crack out those new pastels.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> day 9 - Fingers  
> this ended up being nothing like i planned it to be, but i like it. I feel like im starting to break out of the funk ive been in the last couple of days

Stiles smudged the line of charcoal with the edge of his thumb. The charcoal stick he had been using was worn down to a nub, and he reached out to grab another one from the container beside him.

“Fuck,” Stiles swore under his breath when his hand found nothing but hard plastic. He had used the last of his charcoal.

Outside the wind howled and rain pelted the windows. Stiles frowned. The upside to the storm of the decade – as the media had dubbed it – was that Stiles had an excuse to stay in his apartment and draw. The downside was that he was running out of materials and if he wanted to replenish his stores he would have to leave the apartment.

Stiles tapped his fingers against the edge of his sketchpad and considered his options.

In the end Stiles found himself shrugging on his jacket and preparing to face the storm. The art supply store that he frequented was only a block away. Stiles reasoned that he wouldn’t get too wet.

He was wrong.

It was too windy to use an umbrella and within moments of stepping outside Stiles’ hair was plastered to his head. He thanked every deity that he could think of that he had bought a waterproof jacket.

Stiles was shivering and soaked by the time he reached Legends.  

Legends stocked a large selection of art supplies that were great quality, and most importantly for Stiles Laura Hale – the owner – charged fair prices for the supplies; prices that Stiles could afford. Legends was one of Stiles’ favourite places in the city.

The store was beautifully warm and Stiles audibly sighed at the change in atmosphere. There was no one behind the counter, Stiles assumed that Laura was in the back. She was in the store every day as far as Stiles knew; she was always there whenever he came in.

Stiles headed straight over to where the charcoal was kept. He could probably navigate the store blindfolded.

“Do you need help finding anything?” A man asked.

Stiles jumped and almost dropped the charcoal he was holding. He turned around to see a man he didn’t recognise standing behind the counter.

“Ah, no,” Stiles said. “I just came in for some more compressed charcoal.” He held up the package so the man could see.

The man nodded and turned his attention back to the piece of paper he was holding. Stiles continued to browse the shelves; he didn’t really want to go back out into the storm just yet.

Stiles jumped again when the man yelled suddenly.

“Laura! The modelling clay isn’t out here!”

“It is!” Stiles heard Laura call out from the back of the store. “It’s in the box under the counter labelled _assorted acrylics_!”

“Why the…” the man trailed off mumbling to himself about Laura’s ridiculous organisation, or lack thereof.

Laura emerged from the back room carrying a stack of sketchpads. “Stiles!” she greeted cheerfully. “I should have known you’d be the only one crazy enough to brave this storm to come in.”

“I ran out of charcoal,” Stiles explained. “It was either brave the storm or risk cabin fever if I didn’t have anything to distract me. I wasn’t even sure you’d be open.”

“I decided that it would be a good time to organise inventory while it wasn’t as busy as usual,” Laura said. “This is my brother, Derek, by the way.” She nodded to the man who was now digging through the box labelled _assorted acrylics_ pulling out packets of modelling clay. “I talked him into helping me out.”

“More like bribed,” Derek muttered to himself.

Laura rolled her eyes and put the sketchpads down on the counter next to Derek. “Is it just the charcoal today?” Laura asked Stiles.

“Um,” Stiles paused and turned back to the shelf. He grabbed a packet of pastels as well. “The pastels too. I want to try working in colour more.”

Stiles walked over to the counter and handed Laura the two packages. He drummed his fingers against the countertop while Laura rung him up; there was still charcoal under his fingernails and on his hands, the rain hadn’t washed it all away.

Laura put Stiles’ purchases in a bag and Stiles paid in cash.

There was a large crack of thunder from outside, and Stiles didn’t think it was possible but it started to rain even harder. Stiles groaned; the prospect of going back outside was not a nice one.

“You can hang around here,” Laura offered. “Wait until the rain lets up a little bit.”

“You sure?” Stiles asked.

Laura nodded. She picked up a sketchpad and held it out to Stiles. “Here, take this and crack out those new pastels.”

“I can’t take that,” Stiles said.

“We’re having a sale right now: buy any packet of charcoal and get a free sketchpad.” Laura grinned and tried to press the sketchpad into Stiles’ hands. “The sale lasts for the next five minutes and is exclusive to cute, soaking wet boys who’d risk hypothermia for their art.”

“She’s not going to take no for an answer,” Derek said.

Stiles relented and took the sketchpad from Laura. “I’ll leave when the rain lets up.’

Laura shrugged. “Stay however long you want. I doubt many people will be coming in so it’s not like you’ll get in the way.”

Stiles took off his jacket, sat down on the floor and opened the sketchpad and charcoals. He looked around the room and thought about what to draw. Behind the counter Derek was sitting on the stool and was bent over a sketchpad of his own, a graphite pencil in his hand.

“You’re an artist too?” Stiles asked. He knew Laura painted, he had seen some of her work; it was beautiful.

Derek looked up and nodded. “I’m not as good as Laura, but yeah, I do draw sometimes.”

Laura smacked Derek across the back of his head. “Stop putting yourself down. His art is amazing,” she told Stiles.

Derek frowned and looked back down at his sketchpad. He flipped over to a fresh page and started drawing.

Stiles selected a piece of pastel and started to sketch out a rough shape. He didn’t mean to start drawing Derek, it just sort of…happened. Every now and again he would glance up and Derek would be staring intently at his own sketch, eyebrows furrowed slightly, biting his lip. Stiles just wanted to capture that.

At one point Stiles looked up to find Derek staring at him. Stiles’ quickly looked down at his page, his cheeks burning.

Laura was flitting in and out of the backroom, and around the store. She didn’t seem bothered in the least by the fact that her brother had given up all pretence of helping her with inventory. She pulled out her laptop to put on some music while she worked and the men drew.

After an hour and half the rain was still coming down heavily, and Stiles had a – in his opinion – half decent sketch of Derek done in blue pastel.

Laura stopped what she was doing to peer over Derek’s shoulder and see what he was drawing. When she saw the sketch she snorted.

“Typical,” Laura muttered.

“Shut up, Laura,” Derek said.

Before Stiles knew what was going on Laura was by his side and looking down at his sketchpad. Stiles tried to cover the sketch, but it was too late.

Laura laughed. “Oh my God.”

Stiles’ cheeks went red. He knew staying was a mistake. He was never going to be able to show his face at Legends again.

“The two of you have to show each other your drawings,” Laura said.

“No!” Stiles and Derek exclaimed at the same time.

“Yes.” Laura snatched the sketchpad out of Stiles’ hands.

Stiles scrambled to his feet and followed Laura back over to the counter where Derek was sitting. He was absolutely mortified. He had only just met Derek and was already sketching him like some creeper.

“On the count of three you’re going to show Stiles you sketch,” Laura told Derek. “And I’ll show you his.”

“No,” Derek repeated.

Laura ignored Derek and started counting anyway. “One, two…”

Derek scowled but when his sister said three he turned his sketchpad so Stiles could see.

Stiles reached out and took the sketchpad from Derek. The other man didn’t resist, he was too focused on staring at the sketch of himself.

“Oh my God,” Stiles whispered.

Derek had been sketching Stiles. There was a rough sketch of Stiles sitting on the floor at the bottom of the page, and in the upper right corner Derek was in the process of doing a close up of Stiles’ hands. Stiles touched the page where Derek had drawn his fingers holding the pastel, then pulled his hand back when his fingers left blue smudges on the page.

Across the counter Derek had done the same thing as Stiles; taken the sketchpad so he could get a closer look at the drawing. The drawing Stiles had done focused on Derek’s face. Derek was a little in awe. He was used to drawing people, but he couldn’t remember the last time someone had drawn him.

Derek still hadn’t said anything about the drawing and Stiles was getting nervous.

“This is amazing,” Stiles said to break the silence.

“So is this,” Derek said.

Derek picked up his pencil and scribbled something down next to Stiles’ sketch, then he handed the sketchpad to Stiles.

Stiles sat Derek’s sketchpad down then took his from Derek. On the page, written in graphite, was Derek’s phone number and smudged fingerprint.

**Author's Note:**

> you can always talk to me on [tumblr](http://heavenlyhale.tumblr.com/)


End file.
